Monday, September 18, 2017

#MicropoetryMonday - September 11 - 17, 2017



Me, Vampire - Courtesy of Snapchat filters



Hey everyone! Are you feeling Halloween in the air like I am? My decorations are going to have to come out soon. The nights here are leaning closer to sweater weather so I'm getting Autumn vibes. I miss up north and seeing the colors change but I can still visualize in my mind and write about it. It'll do.

My nerve pain is officially the worst it's ever been but if I type slowly I can manage. I'm faring better with a pen some days but mostly I sit here frustrated. I want to do more. But I should be happy with what I have produced. And I am. Believe me. I am.

I've been reading Anne Sexton poetry this week. I haven't really sat down and read her for about ten years and I of course found the way I read her to be different than how it was back then. I'm in love with her still. I also find most of her work to be more relatable to me now than ever. A new found appreciation for an old flame. I've read a few novels this week too. I'm trying to tackle Michael Schmidt's "Lives of the Poets" but it's so huge and I can't lift it or read it comfortably at the moment. I should get a book stand or something. Or just get the Kindle version. Little annoyances from this big annoyance known as being sick forever.

I've been sucked into The Vampire Diaries and starting to watch whatever horror is on Netflix. I've been pleasantly surprised by some I've watched. My brain lacks the name of titles right now. It's my way of getting that Halloween feeling like I mentioned earlier. I want so badly to feel well and I'm not and it's disheartening but I can do things to make myself as happy as possible. If not, I'm going to wither away in my mind too and I don't want that. I spend enough time gritting my teeth and staring at walls. At least I can imagine in there. Rest is not so easy to come by when you're born creative.

I'm here though. I'm doing what I can. I'm going to try to go see Mother! with my husband this upcoming weekend. I'm going to have to make doctor appointments again soon. (I'm so tired of doctor appointments that don't seem to matter really.) I'm listening to good music. I'm relying on God and prayer. I'm trying to make some decisions about what to do with my writing. I don't think I want to call it work anymore. It takes the fun out of it. ;) I'm toying around with releasing my chapbook in print form. I'm toying around with a lot of ideas really and I don't know if any of it will really happen. I don't know if I'm just going to be "someone who wrote a lot of online poetry for her entire life" or "insert something cool and authorly". I don't know if I care or if I should care or if I'm supposed to care about this as a writer. It's not money. It's never been money. I would have quit a long time ago if it were about money. I just don't know anymore. I just know it's becoming physically more difficult to do much of anything for too long. I'm ill. I can't deny it. I just have so much more to write.

Alright, I'm going now before I end up deleting all I just painfully wrote. Take it easy this week everyone! Love and be love. <3



****




Losing count
of wake fires,
years smoldered
still burn bright

Each flame
deep set
in the eyes
of my family

to remind us



****


My secret heart
forgives your emotion based mistakes

Concealed truth
out in open plains you tried to overtake

Justified actions
bend & break



****


broken bond
so torn up
& apart
we used our remnants
to cling to
to keep afloat
in distant rivers
to return to
the ocean together



****


instead of looking
we applied to be
mannequins behind
glass windows
we stopped passing
became the passed
this was transcendence



****



Rosemary's Baby (1968)


Watching Rosemary's Baby at 6 AM

1.

Mia sits like a china cup
chipping away at French manicured nails
Wild printed woman, 30 years her senior,
speaks with a table shaking voice

2.

it's serene
here
underwater
familiar scene

wait
i'm the red clad lamb
being led to slaughter

time ticks
i reminisce
what did they give me?

3.

polished & forgiven
too yellow morning awakening

accusation lingers on the skin
marked & bitten

tea bag evidence
an open window invitation




****


Parts of my mother

I found them
in headstones laid on my chest

In sobbing breaths,
in appearing statuesque
when being yelled at



****


I caught you crying in the jade garden
Don't worry
No one can keep an orchid alive
You held my face like an apple
You're my core



****


People can't fathom
how patient I've been

Waiting
for identity

Waiting
for answers

Silent mother,
who is my father?

I've grown



****


All the beaches blend together
A mouth full of sand, salt spray, tears
Gulls shriek, blocking out echoes
Of screams that won't go away
Ever



****


unglued
unhinged
as if we were objects
as if we were metal & wood
but livewire flesh
blood spilled (accidents happen)
& bone thin holds well



****


Vapor calm

I make myself a wisp
so I can fade to a soothing scent

These dreams
are sedation induced
because I can't move



****


Made of the icy sting of metal
Under heat, under pressure
Born in distress, boiling over
A scorched servant of suffering



****



You've made me
the stones
of your house
I have a skylight
& firm foundation
I'm a view of a yard now
watching you
in the moonlight



****


I want to ask if the Falls
held a spectral mirage
like grandma said,
but you don't believe in ghosts

Just how to haunt like one



****


when the water's high
go to the attic
you said
the higher we are
the lower the rest

wind like a whale song
sings of change



****


Laid out
Laid in
Skin like
surface of a cutting board
Like every hand
they forced you to show
Laid down
Bet it all
Clear the table



****


Blame is shed
Here is
fragile acceptance
& a delicate surrendering
to the deterioration of your well being;
Still, we live as well
as we can



****


A decade of stormy weather

I sit
waiting for light

fidgeting
with a spirit so alive
it can't be contained
inside this shell



****


It may take
my whole lifetime
to recover
from being born

I'm remembering
the celestial chute,
fluorescent fear
& how to scream



****


Sing of your blurred dreams
even if they're not completely yours.
Is anything really yours? Do you know
ownership? You're letting go of it.



****


Leave the scenery outside
next time
There are desert mountains
in your eyes
Painted flecks of gold
like the sunrise



****


I follow a snowstorm
under my skin

An avalanche tremor
of muscles
A rabbit twitch

With my little
bone finger

& believe in healing



****


Summer's end proving to be tumultuous
Brisk winds hint of better days
They soothe me at night
I want to fall completely this time



****


I can trace death in my open palm
Creases keep changing
Feelings run deeper
Follow these streams
Veins of disease

I can swim
if I keep calm



****


Death drama today

It isn't my fault that the lightning
within me wants to take me

I like the grey clouds
most find threatening

Muted pain



****


The light comes to you
when you're too afraid to
speak anymore

I can feel the knocking
softly on my door
but I can't hear

sounds so near



****


Strength in the tides,
in the changing,
the unstoppable flow,
forces of healing moonlight,
eroding me like sand,
making me new



****






This overactive cage,
so tender, so finicky

I struggle against
forced immobility

I pay for it too heavily
in eyelids, and frustrated rage



****


The quiet is calling
I'll find peace in it,
retreat into it

Slowly

Recovering from falling
into the chaos noise
still ringing in my voice



****


I saw vital organs blossom,
take over bellies
& every step walked

I've seen one consumed
from the inside;
Here I am at the mirror



****


We charmed her like Wendy
She drank deep,
merrily chasing the green fairy
French girl sings from a piano
Her smoke rings look scary
Don't go



****


I saw angels in the funhouse mirror
I saw my cousin through five layers of glass
waving wildly
my stuffed souvenir at his feet
He rescued us



****


A kind of betrothal
between old & new

I'm piecing past & present
together to save a future

I don't really believe in
tomorrow, only now


****


I found your rain slicker auspicious
Aloft, gulls warn us away from the water
Back to your boathouse
Tea mugs warm us
Ever closer


****


I wake up
like the stage magician's
assistant turned victim

He's left me
sawed in half
to try to find myself again


****


I dreamt of the green clad lady,
electric and dying

There was a race between who would
plug her in first

Fiber optic dust follicles
lit up


****


Let's watch the sunset
Wild rose will settle & still for that
I worry about her losing all her petals
In this light she buds again


****


Alone in this
I summon bliss
Floating in starlight
Waning crescent kiss
Back to the body
Reminisce
The pulse of nighttime
Alive in the abyss


****






VSS (Very Short Stories):


One's misfortune, another one's success.
Gift wrapped in guilt. Accepted.



****


One foot in the ocean on the brink of a tropical depression. She crosses a moment off her bucket list, longs to be swept away.


****







WIP (Works in Progress):


I wrote of birth and sorrows earlier. The beginning of creation and transformation with every brand new day. Yesterday's you is over.



****


Pain so bad
soft sheets leave scrapes
Someone has replaced
all the cotton threads with needles,
lined my clothing with thorny barbs



****





Monday, September 11, 2017

#MicropoetryMonday - September 4 - 10, 2017


I'm looking forward to a new week. This past one required a lot of soul searching, releasing of frustrations, patience with myself and others, and combating fears and anxieties. I'm in pain. No sugarcoating. It hurts a lot. I take advantage of the moments it's not so bad. I try to do things I want to do and will stop if it becomes too much so that is much better than where I was a few months ago.

I'm thankful for friends and family talking to me about things right now. I'm glad to be listened to. This week I'll be working on my new blog design and then we can really have some fun. I'm excited to share new writing with everyone. I'm also very glad that so far all of my friends and family are doing okay with Hurricane Irma and it ended up being not as bad as anticipated for their areas. My heart is still with other parts of the world that did have a major and devastating impact by Irma and those still struggling after Harvey. What's happening in St. Martin is so sad and I pray for peace and relief for them. <3

I have changed things around a bit in my apartment. When a new month or new season comes around I like to switch things up. I haven't broken out the Halloween decorations yet but they are on their way! The new led lights Jackson and I got for our bedroom are more "blacklight" purple than the other purple we have used in the past but they're still cool. Gives a "spooky Halloween" vibe. I also have a lot of pink in my decor and my red bulb in my lamp (which shows up more pink so it's not as angry as red, haha)I'm sad one of my strings of star lights went out but the star covers are reusable so I can put them on other lights. I like that it feels like I'm in a calm, rosy glow right now.

I tried drawing a bit the other night and it caused my nerves in my hands to act up but thankfully it was better by the next day. I feel I'll do better with a paintbrush. I'll be getting started on a piece this week that involves some collaging and painting so that will be fun. I have been reading Platypus Press chapbooks mostly this week. Some Yeats. Some of Plath's journal entries. I also started a novel called, "Salvage the Bones" by Jesmyn Ward and it's amazing and gritty. A book you have to read slowly because the story cuts that deep and you don't want it to bleed to death in your hands. At the same time, the book is so real. Too real. Books like these remind me of how awesome it is to be alive.

Have a good one, everyone. A lot of cleaning up will be happening this week. Stay loving, helpful, and filled with gratitude. <3



****





Space and land,
very ancient

Before the lush,
the verdant grass

From the dust,
from the Mighty Hands

Untainted by
so many hands



****


Trust your soul
because what you see
may be distorted reflections
Remember what you do
when no one's looking
Think what they'll do



****


End of summer means preparations
for sparks of life crawling to my surface
A break from the pains
A dance in creative rains



****


across a sapphire sky
I see my sister
head a new way
on a jumped plane
fulfilling promises
I wait for her to come back



****


We're partial to the nightlife
An hour away
city lights dazzle us,
entice us  We recall
the fallen who got
swept away in the haze



****


you took
that big risk

the leap
between
two dangerous mountains

but you couldn't
be bothered
with taking
my call

so I fall



****


A celestial place
wasn't needed
to awaken
Next to a fire
in the backyard,
that'll do
The trees were cut last summer
I lost sleep



****


Uncertain forecast
is nothing new
They say under this sun
we can't help but look the same
Harmonious voices
& identical lost hope



****


I didn't see
all that fell from me
until I felt crumbling
beneath my feet
Too late to save
what I couldn't hang onto
Too far past
to retreat



****


Sensitivity superpower

The weight of it all
on an unlikely hero

One who shields eyes
with a cape, punishing themselves
for being so small



****


Your forehead, forest damp
as you talk of fire
I know it's the fever
I change the images
to beauty
to combat this
rage sickness



****


Tiny sparrows, eyelashes
Your melancholic confession
Truth pill swallowed, overdosed
You cry too much
You've said too much
And I forgive you



****


your beautiful chaos
has a rhythm I can't let go of

rear view mirror serenade
backseat singer

every song you know
in one chorus



****


Nothing I could say
would soothe the wound
of the world
I am silence(d)
so I hear
so much
it scratches my torn apart heart
to make more room



****






When I came back to myself
I saw no separation
between The All
and how I see me,
how I view reality,
but I could feel
my inner wall decaying



****


Watch the pain disappear,
blend into the background
Periwinkle twilight
Dream symbols
on canvas
Focused foreground
Art therapy



****


They pushed me to trust in masks
to hide what's real

Bottles of tricks
to fool myself with

Names of Muses
for sleep & false pharma gods



****


Sometimes I hide because I just don't want to be sad anymore. Beyond the walls hurts too much right now. Peeking over pains just as much.


****


Slip away
between layered glass cracks
Painted
Catching sunlight
Illuminating all shades
of your spectrum
& your beautiful flaws



****


To the edge--
I leapt fires I wasn't sure were real
until I felt heat on my face
An empty pit--
overwhelming soul sadness



****


Squeeze out meaning
until your hands are bloody
See that you've depleted
the point
No one's remembering
the argument in memoriam



****


Seasons turn

Gift of change
wrapped in winds & snowfall

but nature can't deliver
if I'm hidden away
where she can't reach me



****


It's not a facade
It's a censored display
A projection of what's
the least likely to get me hurt
& it's not your fault



****


Under the clouds, the dove feathers, the peace of the sky,
the September moon shines, a dull outline, protecting us tonight



****



I struck a bargain
Never made it off the crossroads
Undecided, in the middle, neutral is the path
that I am forever pulled from


****






Our time
in the Light
Can you see
the minutes tick
in falling stars?
Can you watch
the hours pass
from a moonbeam?
Do you care?


****


Follow the streams
where your eyes lead you
where they meet the rivers
where the green blue pools
fall into flowing life force


****


No more teasing, sky. The lightning means I'm in the storm. Your dark clouds are making perfect sense.


****


Carefully navigating
thin tightrope

Eggshell linoleum
but only around you

We can't escape our downfalls
No, we hold fast to them


****


From urgency to urgency,
dangerous moments to full blown
outbursts of secrecy

Angry rain tears
flooding my ears
with all you never told me


****


We woke up at moonrise

The harvest rages on
outside our tracing paper walls

Autumn calls to us
with ochre skies
& crimson air


****


The first five years are the clay
that shapes me, they say
Toddler trauma gloom
They spread me in doom
I'll harden some day
Then chip away


****


Here we are
back to a washed away day

The air
dank & demanding,
lightning flashing

Back to the east
& our beginning


****


A faith untouchable
will be my legacy
after the print fades

Words on bone ash pages,
peeling skin from
frantic fingertips


****






Angels & elements
Streetlights fade out
as we walk down the road
to our earthly homes
You say you know
it means we're watched over


****


A hand
like a feather
drifting down

'Must be the work of angels'

His nonchalant response
was truth
from the mouth
of the muse


****


Trading ghost stories,
waiting for the storm

I'm here as long as
the phone wires hold us

& I'll be a light in your hearts
in the darkness


****


Clear as crystal

You make me unafraid
so we lay it all bare,

become as fragile as glass
believing that dawn
will break us


****



ambient music
of the celestial symphony
cherubic charm of birdsong
cloud hopping
across tropical citrus sky
stress floats away


****


dancing porcelain

a delicate moment

s
   h 
         a
        t
            t
        
         e
               r
     e
d


****


Skin cage or
electric fence follicles

This is a body
on guard,
in defense

This is pain protecting worse wounds
no one should ever see


****


Stay to the end
Miracles born
of deep belief
En masse
Circles, squares, triangles
the same
We form ideas
from the shape of the moon


****


All is still
Small hours pass faster
but leave longer shadows
Branches are safe
in darkness together,
worst of the storm over


****





Haiku:


Small plates for large mouths
Bread fed, our daily discourse
Thrice a day enraged







VSS (Very Short Stories):


A dark day. Labored fruits have rotted overnight. Time to ask why is time we don't have. The shutters are open. No one walks the streets.


****


"Owl"

Owl reminds me of every
choice I gained wisdom from.



****



I named my teddy bear Samson.
He was a symbol of strength who survived abuse from my siblings
and the loss of a button eye.










WIP (Works in Progress):



I like the show for its rustic colors.
Yellows, oranges, bright greens.
My dullness needs it.
I feel like obsidian
when a TV screen is off.

                      --From "The TV People"



****



"You said you feared we wouldn't have beautiful things to look at anymore so I'm doing my best to keep creating for you."

                      --line from a letter


****


"Yes, he's quite a master of the art of saying things in poor taste."
"In my world we call that a 'dick move'."


****


My brain is a pile of dead jellyfish. Cross wired. Tentacle entwined.